


Nicotine Infused Ambience

by notchirp



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: :/, F/F, Going Through It, Slow Burn, Young Carol, hopefully i wont abandon this, i cannot stop thinking about her, i literally imagined a life with carol and started crying, i love carol denning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notchirp/pseuds/notchirp
Summary: "Well, what do you want?" You continued, this time tilting your head slightly and rocking on your heels so you swing slightly. Her comically large glasses seemed to gleam for a second as she stuffed her hands in her pocket."I want to psychoanalyze you."(This takes place in the 80s, before Carol Denning went to prison!)
Relationships: Carol Denning & Reader, Carol Denning/Original Female Character(s), Carol Denning/Reader, Carol Denning/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Nicotine Infused Ambience

_You swung lightly on the swing set, kicking the rocks beneath your feet. You stared at your chalk-covered shoes intently as you grip the slightly rusty chains of the swing, hoping that it won't cut you again. All your thoughts were interrupted by another girl your age as she stood in front of you, staring at you. Immediately, you stopped swinging to see what she wanted or if she wanted to swing. However, she didn't say anything or even moved, it seemed like time froze as you were waiting for her to tell you something._

_"Do you want the swing?" You asked. She shook her head and continued to stare at you, not saying anything. It threw you off guard because it wasn't often someone came up to you to talk to you. It wasn't because you were a loner or you were mean, you just preferred to keep to yourself, even at the age of 9. Often you wished you were more outgoing like all the kids in your grade, they easily talked to each other and got along quickly. It seemed like the only thing that mattered to them was how fast they could run across the gym, but those things didn't particularly interest you. "Well, what_ **_do_ ** _you want?" You continued, this time tilting your head slightly and rocking on your heels so you swing slightly. Her comically large glasses seemed to gleam for a second as she stuffed her hands in her pocket._

_"I want to psychoanalyze you."_

~

It was hard to concentrate on the lesson your chemistry teacher was giving you, it seemed almost as if he was practicing to win the world's most boring teacher. You rested your cheek on your forearm trying to understand the words he was trying to say, but alas none of them got through to you. Instead, you just tried to copy everything he wrote down and hope that by the evening when you look back on your notes it will come to you. Listening to the clock just four feet above your head tick slowly made you want to gouge your eyes out.

_Tick-tock_

It became apparent that you were not going to make it out of chemistry with your sanity, so instead, you drowned out your teacher with your thoughts. You took pleasure in daydreaming and found yourself daydreaming about a life that you are far away from this town and living your life in a nice studio apartment in a large city, with a wonderful view. The view from your window was bleak compared to the ones you saw in magazines that showcase all the wonderful apartments in New York City. Your view consisted of a tall tree from your yard that towered over your window, covering any sort of real view of the world around you. Sometimes you wished you were a bird, a bird with large wings that could fly anywhere at any time. Birds had no responsibility. Birds had no care other than to migrate once a year to the southern hemisphere for warmer and nicer climates. If only things were that simple.

_Tick-tock_

You snap back into reality from your trance as your teacher continues to explain sig figs and whatnot. You glanced over at your notebook, you had begun to draw slightly, you couldn't make out what it was you were doing while in your daydream. Drawing was not a strong suit of yours, ever since you were little you seemed to be terrible at drawing the simplest things such as a stick figure. Drawing has always been a mystery to you, it was hard to wrap your head around how people could draw such realistic things or dig deep into their brain to bring out the most abstract and thoughtful pieces you have ever seen. 

_Ring_

You collect your notebook and pencil and quickly put them in your bag to head to lunch, one of your favorite periods. You didn't enjoy the eating part, however, how could you complain? You enjoyed the relaxed feeling of lunch, you didn't have to worry about a lesson, homework assignment, quiz, test, anything. You would just eat lunch by yourself reading a book to keep you company.

You adored the spot you found back in freshman year, it was decently far from the cafeteria because it was against the adjacent building to the cafeteria. It was on the other side of the football field which was currently occupied by the football team and that god-awful whistle that seemed to caused your ears to bleed every time the coach blew into it every five minutes. The fact that your spot was covered by neighboring trees and the edge of the roof of the building covered a strip of the grass you sat at almost seemed like a divine being graced you with the spot, although you weren't religious at all. However, this fantasy soon comes to a halt as you head to your usual spot outside with your lunch bag and saw a girl with wavy brown hair and large glasses in your spot. You began to debate whether it was worth it to go and try to reclaim your spot or just find a new spot, but you decide to go and take your spot back.

"Who are you?" You questioned, standing to the right of the girl. She looked up at you and squinted slightly, you couldn't tell if she was trying to glare at you or if was the sun in her eyes. The girl then went back to her notebook to sketch a bit more. You rocked on your feet as you were puzzled at her lack of response, it all seemed a bit funny. "Who are you-"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." The girl interrupted snapping her gaze at you again. She sighed and closed her notebook and stared straight ahead of her as if she was contemplating on even answering you. "I'm Carol Denning." You nodded at her response, it didn't seem like she wanted to give up your spot easily.

"Well Carol Denning, do you mind I sit next to you?" You asked, releasing the unknown tension that held your shoulders up. Carol had this demeanor about her that you couldn't exactly pinpoint, she just seemed standoffish and aggressive mainly due to the slight glare she gave you. While you weren't the most open and nicest person, you felt a little hurt by her lack of eagerness to make friends, but how could you blame her? It wasn't hard to tell people here were shallow and had tight bonds with each other, so it would be hard to infiltrate friend groups. At least, you learned the hard way.

"Why?" Carol scowled lightly, leaning against the red-brown bricks of the school. Her response surprised you slightly, making you backtrack a bit.

"This spot is the best spot in the whole school, I'd just rather sit here," you answered. She pondered for a bit looking ahead of her at the dense group of trees across the street that nearly covered the neighborhood close by. The slight current blew your hair as you rocked on the balls of your feet awaiting her approval with your book and lunch bag hugging your chest, trailing your eyes to whatever she was staring at.

You remember the first week of your freshman year, you struggled to find new friends to integrate with and finding 'your place'. While you did have some nice acquaintances that would talk to you once in a while or if they were in your class, it all seemed so isolating. You had a friend once back in elementary school, she was so intriguing and was also a loner like you. You both stuck together like birds of a feather, however, she moved just as fast she arrived. All of your memories of her were so blurry and distant it was hard to remember her other than the utter euphoria you felt around her.

"Ok," Carol grumbled briskly, turning her notebook to continue sketching. You blankly stared at her, surprised at her answer. You sat down about four feet away from her and cracked open your book and focused your attention on the words. Carol seemed to be annoyed at your presence, but it didn't matter to you as long as you got your spot and get to read. Especially since you were so drawn to the book you were reading.

It was about a 14-year-old boy named Ponyboy and so far you liked the book. You and Ponyboy were similar in aspects such as you both were smart, but sometimes you couldn't bite your tongue. It was something you tried to improve and it was getting better, however, it is hard to break a habit you had for as long as you remember. Another way you related to him was because you both try to put up a persona of robustness to seem like someone you're not, however it was clear many people saw right through your act. No matter how hard you tried, you weren't tough. You weren't cunning. You weren't anyone. You weren't-

_Ring!_

You turned to grab your lunch bag with the food you barely ate because the book kept your mind occupied from your obvious hunger. You take a bite of your sandwich for good measure and looked for Carol who was wiping the excess dirt off her legs.

"See you later." You whisper as you hug your stuff to your chest. She slowly peered over to you and walked away to her next class, without a word. Did she even hear you or is it your mind telling you things? You let your shoulders slump as your eyes follow her until she turned the corner. It didn't matter though, you straighten your posture and walked to your next class.

~

Your last class had ended and you make your way home on foot. Walking was a nice way to clear your head, it let you take in the scenery and collect your thoughts after being forced to learn more bullshit in math. High school was supposed to be the easiest time in your life which made you a little anxious. While school wasn't so bad at the moment, you tend to overanalyze and overthink a lot of things which leads you to depersonalize yourself and the things around you. You start to believe you forgot your things at school just as school was over and you are feeling the rush of anxiety creep into your mind. Or on the other hand, you bring too many things which made you feel insecure that people stare at the sheer amount of things you brought to school. Maybe you got it from your mother? It was very her to say, " _i_ _t's better to bring more than what you need than to forget something and regret it,_ " it made you upset that you felt that way too.

After walking aimlessly for hours it got dark, you decided to take a quick detour to the more rural part of the city. While there wasn't too much going on, you look for somewhere to go unwind because your home wasn't the best option. You saw a yellow, luminescent 'M' and smiled brightly. As you head over you lightly jog to the entrance to put your book inside, so you wouldn't lose it. With your back, you push open the door and walk over to the cashier.

"Welcome, my name is Andy. What would you like to order?" A guy seemingly in his early 20s said with slight enthusiasm.

"Fries and a vanilla shake," you reply grabbing your money from your pocket.

"$2.59" You handed him three dollars to which he dropped forty-one cents into your extended hand. "Thank you, your order is number seven," he said handing you a red, plastic square with the number seven in yellow etched in the middle of it.

You made your way over to a table at the back and got out your book to continue reading. As you began to read, the door to the restaurant chimed and the girl from lunch, Carol, came in. You perked your head up to see her, but she didn't notice you and just ordered her food. Quickly, you decided that watching her like a creep was not the best thing you could do, so you just went back to your fantastic book. You heard her boots tread heavily to the back as well and sat on the opposite side of the restaurant. You continue to read but were interrupted by the same guy who took your order with your food.

"Number 7," he said as he placed your fries and shake in front of you.

"Thank you," you smiled lightly as you reached your hand to begin eating. Your body tenses up as you feel Carol's gaze on you, you couldn't tell whether you acknowledge her or just continue reading because it was awkward enough earlier when she seemingly hated the fact you were within a 5-mile radius of her. Shaking off the intensity of the situation, you go back to where you had left off. You grab your fries and eat them slowly as you imagine the words of the book becoming reality and that you were living as Ponyboy and having to sit awkwardly behind those greaser guys, but instead of just feeling his awkwardness you felt your own as you start to overthink if Carol was actually staring at you or you were just being paranoid.

"Number 8," the cashier had said in front of Carol. You peaked over your book to watch and saw she was more wrapped up in her food rather than you. You took a sigh of relief and continued to read on with no external worries as you crept your hand out to take a sip from your vanilla shake.

Pushing your thumb down to the side so the page will flick to the other side of the book you began to wonder what time it was, usually, you never stayed out too late. For the most part, your parents never gave you too much trouble anymore because you always managed to finish your homework quickly and didn't bother them. Your parents are too preoccupied with your younger sister who was practically a genius, she was such a creative kid and was a few years above her age group. It wasn't that you were jealous of your sister, you were on the contrary very proud of her for being such a smart five-year-old. However, you did envy the attention she got from your parents, but how could you blame them?

You weren't a trouble kid and fine on your own, but sometimes you wanted the same love and appreciation she got. Growing up, every step you took was monitored heavily and criticized to the fullest extent. You remember that one time you played around in a muddy puddle and your mother screamed her head off at how disrespectful you were and the horrible child you were making out to be. Hell, they were convinced that you were going to become a serial killer in middle school because you decided it would be cool to wear your hat backward. After all, other kids were doing it too, so whatever they did was wrong. It all gave you a headache to look back on the obsessive nature your parents had on your upbringing. You did love your father more though, he was a lot more lenient than your mother like that one time he gave you candy past your bedtime because you were upset about the cruel kids at school teasing you.

You flip your book down on the table, so you could look for a clock.

_9:45_

You hastily swipe up your decently warm fries, half-finished vanilla shake, and your book and mutter curses under your breath. As you were about to leave from the other entrance, your eyes pan over to Carol which to your surprise was also watching you from the corner of her eye, while she was hunched over her knees sketching in the same notebook. Her large tan glasses seemed as if they were about to fall off her face, while she simultaneously craned her neck to watch you leave. Feeling on edge from her asocial gaze, you rush home hoping your parents wouldn't notice you were out late.

You found yourself pacing in front of the door, fearing your parents were on the other side waiting for you to enter and find an excuse to nag and complain about their problematic daughter. The night was getting cold and the anticipation kept building up, almost making you suffocate on the fear alone.

Slowly turning the knob, you sighed in relief upon seeing no one in the living room. You tip-toed upstairs so you could finally get to your bedroom, making sure with each step you were quieter than before. Your hands pushed your slightly ajar door and gently placed your backpack on the space next to your door. You felt your eyes getting heavy as you try to remember the homework assignments you were supposed to do.

You try to convince yourself in the grand scheme of things a couple of assignments done in the morning won't do much harm to you and at worse, they will be turned in late. With that, you slowly stripped your sheets and tucked yourself under the warmth of the blankets, but within a matter of nanoseconds, you felt a short wave of anxiety that you will forget your homework and it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You knew how irrational you sounded, but the homework assignments called out to you.

Not giving it a second thought, you rushed to do your work. You felt guilty for even laying in bed, not completing your work. It all made you feel worthless because you learned from when you were a kid the only way you could impress your parents and others was to constantly be on your own ass about grades. You knew that without your grades, you would be a failure to your parents.

~

You walked onto campus, fifteen minutes before class started with an exasperated feeling in your chest. Usually, you talked to the librarian, Ms. Evenson, in the mornings because she was the only one who found your rants on books entertaining and interesting.

Shuffling quickly to the library you saw Ms. Evenson checking out books for students, stamping the back with the current date in black ink. As you walked behind her desk, she smiled and swiftly turned her head to greet you and handed the freshly stamped book to the student.

"Hey there bookworm," she said lightly teasing you as she stamped the next student's book.

"That's me," you answer leaning against the short wall separating you and the exit.

"What book you reading now?" Ms. Evenson said grabbing the last student's book and stamping it. You eagerly grabbed your backpack and flash the book in front of her with a huge smile plastered across your face. " _The Outsiders_." She read, squinting her eyes slightly and grinning just as much as you. "I love that book, good pick!"

"Thank you, Ms. Evenson," you beamed as you zip your backpack up, holding your book in your armpit, "I'm just upset that this book is about being shunned because of a label and you know how I-"

Ms. Evenson looks at you with a sad gaze, which in turn made your heart pang. She was the only soul you felt comfortable enough to come out to and thankfully she accepted you with open arms, it was enough to make you sob until you got a migraine for the following days.

"You know, I should recommend happier stories for you," Ms. Evenson slightly stammered, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, "it's not good for you and you know I care for you, kiddo."

You smile faintly. It hurt, a lot. Seeing your peers calling other students homophobic slurs and beating them up on the basis that the students seemed gay.

"Don't worry, I like a good tragedy. If it were only happy, the characters wouldn't have depth or realistic qualities." You reassure her and yourself, placing your hand on top of hers. Ms. Evenson sighed into a smile and took her hand off your shoulder.

"Did you know they are making that book into a movie soon?" She remarked as she leaned back into her chair.

"Really?" You asked as your eyebrows raised, grabbing your book from under your armpit. You scan the book and look back at Ms. Evenson with eager eyes.

"Yes!" She grinned. "It's supposed to come out next year in the spring, I heard it's gonna be real good."

"I'll take your word on it." You said, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

_Ring_

"That's my cue," you mumbled with a slight frown creeping onto your mouth pointing to the general direction of your first period.

"I hope I get to see you later, kiddo." She waved as you started to walk out of the library.

You went to your first period, history, where you found yourself half-engaged in the lesson and half-bored out of your mind. Not much in history was all that interesting, but some things did pique your interest like that one time you learned that Chinese women would bind their feet to adhere to beauty standards. The entire trend was to show status and wealth because women who bound their feet didn't need to work and to prove that they didn't need to they would go through years of agonizing pain of reshaping their feet to be completely useless.

Sometimes you wondered what would be different in the future. You wondered how the future generations to come would see the fashion trends now and think if it was cool or not. You were almost certain that big, voluminous hair would never go out of style. In what world would flat and lifeless hair be considered cool? Then again, you look back on the fashion from the 50s and think about how awful those skirts with sown poodles on them.

"Can anybody recall what we talked about last week?" Your history teacher asked the class, looking through his attendance sheet with bored eyes. Silence invaded the room, no one said a word. Nothing sounded for the brief moment you and your classmates avoided having to answer the question. Why the hell did your teacher think that you would remember something he said once last week? You couldn't even remember what you had for lunch last week.

"You," he said pointing in your direction. You turned your gaze slightly, trying to gauge if he was calling on you or not. To your luck, he was not. "Hey!" He called out now moving to the student behind you, Michael, who also happened to be one of your acquaintances you were somewhat friendly with, was sleeping. He clapped his hands in front of Michael's face to which he jolted up and focused his attention on the teacher.

"Sorry, my job lets me off at midnight," Michael yawned.

"I don't care, when you are in my class you stay awake." Your history teacher snarled with a condescending look in his eyes. Michael didn't respond, he just nodded and forced his eyes open.

"Last week I told everyone that the chess club I'm supervising will be taking in new members, so if anyone of you would like to join please sign your name on the board after class. The first meeting is today after school." He stated, pointing to the other end of the chalkboard with the words "chess club" underlined and bullets trailing under it.

As soon as the bell rang you continued to stare at the list, slowly getting up and walking over to it grabbing chalk that laid on the metal border of the chalkboard. You hastily write your name, not daring to think about the people behind you probably watching or the people waiting to write their names as well. You stared at the ground and walked away swiftly seeing a few people who were standing behind you, making you feel even more anxious. Did you take too long to write your name? Are people going to think you are weird? You remind yourself that all your worries are in your head and that no one cared, they are all preoccupied with themselves and their own lives than to be concerned for how long you took to write your fucking name on the chalkboard.

~

Lunch came in no time, you felt excited once again that you were able to read your book, now with the new knowledge that it is going to be made into a movie. Bringing your belongings to the same spot you sat at yesterday, you saw Carol Denning drawing in that same sketchbook. You plopped your things next to her, slightly confused as to why she is back. Does she not have another place to sit? Did you over-sell your spot to her last time? In the end, it didn't matter to you as long as you had your spot you were happy.

"Hey, Carol." You greeted. As soon as she looked at you felt your heart quicken, was your anxiety acting up again? What the hell are you so anxious about? Is it homework? Was it about the chess club? Whatever it was, you wanted it to be gone.

"Hi." She replied, grabbing her fries from a greasy McDonald's bag and chucking them into her mouth.

You crack your book open and grab your plastic water bottle from your backpack. Leaving your book in your lap, you attempted to turn the top off the bottle, but to no avail, it refused to open. You tried to open it again, this time using your entire willpower to do so. You furrowed your eyebrows, annoyance creeping up into your chest.

"Do you need help with that?" Carol asked, with a slightly amused laugh. You lift your eyes from your bottle to look at her confused. "Well, do you?" She continued, holding her hand out to take your water bottle from you. You nod gently handing the water bottle slowly to which she snatched it from your grasp and opened it on the first go.

"Thank you," you smile not knowing whether to be embarrassed you couldn't open the bottle or thankful.

"Don't mention it." She grinned like a Cheshire Cat as she slid down a bit in her spot, grabbing her drink. You also took a swig of your water looking up at the bright summer sky.

You couldn't really peg on the type of person Carol was because she seemed reserved but cocky at the same time. When you first met her she looked as if she could kill you but after the McDonald's encounter, she made an effort to talk to you. Whoever she was, she confused you to the very core.

"Wanna hear about the book I'm reading?" You ask, holding up the book that lounged on your lap near your face. Carol raised her eyebrow averting her eyes onto your face, almost as if she was analyzing you. You held your book up for what felt like hours as she decided whether to listen to you talk aimlessly.

"Sure," she nodded, tugging her mouth down and raising her eyebrows slightly. Carol sat up from her slouch and placed her sketchbook on the other side of her, turning toward you. Carol leaned her head and shoulder a bit against the red-brown bricks of the school, waiting for you to speak. "Well?"

"Okay, so." You start, smiling slightly as you quickly turn to the beginning of the book. "It's about a young boy named Ponyboy and he is in this clique called the 'Greasers'. In the book, there are the Greasers and the Socs which are two different classes of students in high school. The Greasers are the impoverished people that wear leather jackets and Grease in their hair while the Socs are the rich kids who bully the Greasers."

"Why is his name Ponyboy?" Carol asked teasingly.

"He said that his parents had a sense of humor." You answered by doing the air quote signal with your fingers to which Carol snickered as she turned to grab something from her pocket. "Anyway, Ponyboy and his friends are attacked by a group of Socs and one of the Socs is close to drowning him in a fountain. Then his friend, Johnny, saves him by killing the Soc that was holding him down. So they both flee to the town over to escape the cops who are looking for Johnny."

"That's some heavy, shit," Carol mumbled as she popped a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. "Do they get away with it?"

"I don't know yet, I'm not that far." You frown slightly, tugging the corner of your mouth as you plop your book down.

Carol took a long and slow drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke up with her lower lip. "Well, then you can tell me Monday whether they get away with it or not," Carol said as bounced her leg up and down.

"Sounds like a plan," You nod reaching over to grab the sandwich you packed that morning and took a generous bite.

~

After a long last few classes, you felt your heart racing as you anticipated the chess club meeting after school. You felt a wave of anxiousness drape over your body as the clock tick ever so closely to 4 pm. Chess was something you never learned fully, you did play one chess game back in middle school, but you had no idea what you were doing.

_Ring_

You sat up from your seat immediately in response to the bell and started to pack your items inside your backpack. You swung your backpack on your shoulders and walked to your history class, clutching the straps of your backpack until your knuckles turned white.

The door to your history class was slightly ajar and you heard your history teacher's voice through the crack, who was giving directions to the other members of the club.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by your teacher on the other side tapping the end of his pen on a clipboard. He smiled warmly at you, "Hey there, glad you could make it," scanning the clipboard for your name. "Today we are just learning the basics." He informed, checking off the box next to your name. "Do you know how to play?" Your history teacher asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, turning his attention towards you.

"No, sir." You shake your head.

"Well, I'll have to pair you up with-" He said, looking behind him in the classroom and pointing at someone, "Ms. Denning, she says she was the best in her last school."

Your eyes widen at her name as you shifted your weight to see behind him, Carol setting up the chessboard with her eyes attentive to the chess pieces.

You nod your head at your teacher and walked over to an unaware Carol, sitting across from her. She cocked her eyebrow up and peered quickly at you, her facial expression changing from neutral to an amused look, similar to the way a lion looks at its prey.

"Hey, Nerd." Carol greeted smiling slightly and leaning back into her chair.

"Hey, Carol," you say stripping your backpack off your back and onto the floor next to your chair.

"You know how to play chess?" She asked.

"No, that's why I'm paired with you." You answer crossing your legs shifting in your seat.

"Aw," Carol feigned despair as she clutched her heart, "and here I thought you actually wanted to play with me."

"Well, it is a pleasant surprise." You answer truthfully as a small smile cast onto your face. "So teach me how to play, master." You laugh emphasizing master playfully.

"Alright, alright," Carol repeated grabbing the tiniest piece from the already set board. "This is a pawn, in its starting position you can move it either one or two spaces, but after that, it only moves forward one space unless there is a piece diagonal of it." She placed the pawn back down and grabbed a horse-looking piece, "And this is a knight, it only moves in an L-shape in any direction."

"That's a cute piece." You admired, resting your chin on your hand. Carol continued her lesson, grabbing a tall-skinny piece. 

"This is a bishop, you can move it at any distance you'd like, but it only moves diagonally." She said twirling the bishop in her fingers. "Then this tower-looking piece is a rook and just like the bishop it can move any distance, but it only moves vertically and horizontally." Carol held the piece in front of both of your faces, to allow you to study how it looks. "Next, is the queen," She added holding a rather large chess piece, "the queen can move diagonally, vertically, and horizontally at any distance."

"The queen is over-powered." You remarked.

"Well of course the queen is, it's so the king is safe," Carol affirmed as she picked up the last piece that had a cross on the top. "The king is the most important piece in the game. If your king is in checkmate then you lose the entire game."

"What's checkmate?"

"It's where a king is about to be captured by one piece and all other legal moves are blocked by the threats of other pieces." Carol sighed as she placed the remaining pieces in her hands back into their original spot. "You ready?" She asked, grinning mischievously.

"Of course, just go easy on me." You chuckle in response.

"Oh honey, I don't know about that." Carol cooed unconvincingly. "White or black?"

"Doesn't matter to me." You shrug, your eyes focused on hers.

"Alright, I'll let you have white so you could go first." She offered, turning the board so the white chess pieces were in front of you.

You stared at the pieces, deciding which piece you want to move first. You quickly pick the pawn in front of the bishop and move it up two spaces, unsure of whether that was a good first move. You try to gauge Carol's reaction, but her face remained unfazed as she immediately moved the pawn in front of her king. Carol's eyes moved to meet your gaze, waiting for you to make your next move.

Unable to foresee the future of her next moves, you move the pawn to the right of the first pawn you had moved two spaces up so that the pawns were reunited again. This time, when you looked up at Carol she had a lecherous look in her eyes as she grabbed her queen and moved it to the outermost square diagonally.

"Checkmate."


End file.
